Beauty and the Beast
by trallgorda
Summary: This is after the Phantom goes through the broken mirror in the movie. Erik is kidnapped by a strange woman after he escapes the opera house...Erik x ?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is based on the movie, but there wasn't a spot for it in the movies section, so I'll just add it here. I do not own anything except my own characters. This is told from the Phantom's point of view.

Chapter 1

After smashing the mirror and slipping into the hidden tunnel behind it, I raced along the passageway until I reached the exit. I had left a disguise hidden there, and I pulled on the patched long coat and scruffy boots within moments. It would not do to have people on the streets notice me at all. Once concealed beneath the coat's hood, I went into the streets and headed for the poorest section of Paris. No one looks at you too carefully there.

As I walked, I thought of Christine. She cared for me, I know, but she truly loved that vicomte. I could tell that the night they were on the roof, singing to one another. Music was not enough of a love for her.

The twisted back lanes and alleys of Paris swallowed me up, leading me to the Faubourg Saint Jacques. This area was one of the worst of Paris, and I knew that in all of that teeming ugliness, I would not be noticed. This was the place where thieves, vagrants, beggars, and prostitutes made their homes, and it was a city dumping ground for all the things that were not wanted. I made my way past all the refuse of the city, both material and human. No one accosted me, and no one noticed me. That was what I wanted.

I headed to a small inn I knew of where I could stay for a night while I made further plans. I had used it on former forays into the city, and the keeper did not ask questions as long as you had plenty of coins for him.

I noticed I was being followed as I drew closer to the inn. Footsteps behind me echoed my own, and I could tell that they were trailing me. This was not good.

I didn't notice the person in front of me while I listened to the footsteps behind me. A blanket was thrown over my head, strong arms wrapped around me, and before I could begin to fight back, a blow to my head scattered what little wits I had left. As I was losing consciousness, I felt myself being lifted and borne away somewhere. My last thought was that I was going to die.

Space

I woke with a splitting headache. I was lying down somewhere, and gingerly, I felt the lump on my head and wondered where I was. As I sat up, I had to close my eyes and open them again for a second look. I could not believe what I saw.

I was in a room decorated in blue and gray. Bed, sofa, chairs, chaise lounge, window seat, carpet, and curtains were all in those two colors or shades of them. The wood in the room was a dark walnut color, and they provided a good contrast to the blue and the gray. The furnishings were all expensive, and the look to the entire room was just what I preferred. Indeed, I could not have decorated a better or more well-appointed room myself. I was in the four poster bed, and as I emerged from the blankets I noticed that someone had stripped me of my coat, boots, and shirt. Slightly surprised at this, I wandered the room, searching for the door. The only door I found led to a comfortable bathroom and a door off that led to a necessary. Beyond that there were no other doors.

In the bathroom, I saw that a hot bath had been drawn, and feeling the dirt of the faubourg still clinging to me, I finished undressing and slipped into the tub. The water had been scented with sandalwood, and the soaps there had been scented with sage and chamomile: luxurious _and_ expensive. I scrubbed myself from top to toe until the water began to cool before slipping out. I wrapped up in a robe that I had found on a hook behind the bathroom door, and exited to the bedroom again.

The first thing that I noticed was that someone had come ( HOW? where _was_ the door they had used?) and they had left a tray with a substantial breakfast on it. The bed had been made, and this same someone had left out a suit of clothes for me, with a note pinned onto the jacket. It read:

__

Dear Sir,

You need not fear; you are an honored and welcome guest in my home. I have brought you here to keep you safe, and I would like it if you would join me in the salon once you have dressed and breakfasted. Should you need anything, use the bell pull by your bed, and one of my servants shall attend you.

I set this missive aside and dressed, somewhat surprised at this. I sat down at the dressing table and began to work on my hair and hands, wondering all the while. Who would wish to help me? Surely they had seen my face when I had been put to bed, and it wasn't likely that I had been confused with someone else that this person knew. Who was this person?

I ate just to have something in my stomach, and I used the bell pull, keeping my eyes open to learn where the door was. I received the surprise of my life when a bookcase swung out into the room, revealing a doorway behind it. A man stood there and, seeing me, bowed low. "Yes, monsieur?" he said, showing me every sign of respect. That was the last thing I had expected.

I thought for a moment. Now that I knew where the door was, I could go out. But where? Where had I been brought to? Was I still in Paris, or was I somewhere else entirely? I could be on the other side of the world by now. Also, if I left right away, I was sure that my curiosity about my unknown benefactor would eat me alive. I had to at least meet the man who had had the audacity to kidnap someone just to keep them "safe."

"I wish to meet my host," I told the man, who was still bowed. He bowed even more deeply once I had spoken, and he motioned for me to follow. I followed him, and he led me along corridors, through rooms, and through galleries of portraits of people. Through the windows I saw trees, gardens, and fields, so perhaps I was in the country somewhere. Even after the splendor of the opera house, the rooms and furnishings left me breathless. I had never seen such a house.

He opened a door into what I supposed was the salon, and he closed the door behind me, bowing again. I looked about for my host, but saw no one.

Another door opened, and that was when I realized that I had made a terrible mistake: I didn't have a host, but I did have a hostess. She was alone, and her bearing suggested that she was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. She was a tall woman with red hair and bright blue eyes, and her skin was white. When she saw me, she smiled, not with warmth, but with the air of someone who had just seen a valuable possession that they had recently required. Such a woman would not have a husband or be ruled by anyone else. She was the one who had had me brought here, and there was no doubt of it.

"Well, good morning, Monsieur," she said, coming over to me and holding out her hand. "Welcome to my home. I trust you slept well?"

After seeing the behavior of gentlemen in the opera house, I knew what to do. I took her hand and mimed kissing the air above it, bowing my head as I did so. "Madame."

She smiled again, pleased at my fine manners. I was liking her less and less with each moment.

"I suppose you are wondering why I brought you here Monsieur?" She ended her question on an upward inflection, trying to get me to supply my name.

I prayed for patience. "Erik."

"Is that your surname?" she asked, surprised.

"No, it is the only name I have," I told her. "I _am_ wondering why you have brought me here, yes," I said, reminding her that she had yet to explain my kidnapping.

She smiled, this time looking as if she had a secret that she could not wait to reveal. "I was in the audience last night," she said. "I heard you sing, and I could tell that you were not that simple-minded beer barrel Piangi. You were incredible, Monsieur Erik."

I stared at her, not quite sure what she was getting at. "You decided to kidnap me just because you heard me sing?"

"Of course," she said, happily. "You are a wonderful artist, and I know that the police were after you, and I knew that you would have to escape them. So I sent my men to all possible exits of the opera that you could use and had them watch for someone looking as if he were making a stealthy getaway. The two men who spotted you were watching a workers' door when they saw you open a ventilation grating and come out of that. Very clever."

I nodded.

"So why did you bring me? What could you possibly want with a murderer?"

"Murder is a small thing," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "You are much more than a murderer. You are a genius in so many ways, and I am proud to be your protector."

I glared at her. I? Need protection? How dare she!

"Before you refuse," she said, "I wish you to think what my protection will mean for you. You will be able to compose, design, or do whatever you please. I shall provide all necessary things: instruments, books, writing materials, whatever you ask; I will provide. Even if the police find you, they will not be able to remove you from my property. You will be safe from the outside world, and the grounds and house are open to you at all times. You may go where you wish and do as you please. My servants are completely loyal to me, and they will obey you as they will obey me. Later in the year, I travel, and you may accompany me or not as you wish. If you like, you may stay here on trial and change your mind later, and I will make other arrangements for you. Genius such as yours was not meant to moulder in a prison cell, and hanging you would be a crime in itself."

I thought about this. The offer was very attractive, but there was that earlier smile to think about. Did she see me as a person, or as something to decorate her home? I remembered a woman who had a box at the opera house who bought paintings from the masters of the Continent and hung them in her home, and she loved to talk about them just to let others know she had them. Was that what was going on here?

"I wish to think about it," I told her. After all, I didn't have anywhere else to go. "I have one question, however."

"Yes?"

"What is your name?"

She smiled. "I am Madeleine Delphine."

I have to admit, I was surprised. All the people of Paris knew Madeleine Delphine: she was the fashion empress of Paris, and _the_ trendsetter for the world, but she was also known to be a very private individual, rarely entertaining more than a few of her closest friends at a time, and those friends never divulged a detail about their time with her. Why had I not recognized her?

She smiled again. "I can almost see the thoughts forming on your face, Monsieur Erik," she said. "You did not recognize me because I am not dressed in the latest fashion. Today I am in one of my simpler outfits."

Since she had mentioned her dress, I examined it. Dark blue to make her eyes and hair stand out, and there was very little decolletage to speak of, and that in itself was against the latest fashion. Ladies these days left little to the imagination. The evening dresses favored a classical line with trailing skirts, but this seemed more like a dress from the Middle Ages. I hadn't known that women still had dresses sewn for them like that. Modest as it was, it was flattering.

"Well," she said, noting my approval. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

I thought for a moment. "Where are we?"

"This is my country house, outside of Paris."

I nodded. I had been brought to the country, just as I had suspected. Thinking of all that we had spoken of and all that she had said, I then thought about the manhunt still going on. People would be looking for me, and everyone would be on the lookout for a man with a deformed face, a mask, or a covered face. I sighed and came to a decision. "I wish to remain here for a while then, Madame Delphine, and I would like to think about your offer."

Relieved, she smiled and nodded. "Very well, then. I shall leave you on your own, and would you have supper with me tonight?"

I gave her my acceptance, and once she had gone, I began to wonder if I had made the best decision.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Once Madame Delphine had left me on my own, I sat still and considered my position. I had a place where I could hide for some time, or at least until the manhunt for me had died down, and I had a chance to heal my cracked heart. I sighed, wondering what I should do to fill the hours until suppertime. I looked around the room and received the fright of my life when I realized that I wasn't alone after all: a man stood nearby, watching me, probably waiting for orders.

"How long have you been there?" I demanded, trying to recover my equanimity.

"A few minutes, sir," he said, bowing low. It was the same man who had come to my room before. "Is there anything you need?"

I thought for a few moments before answering. "Could you bring me a mask?" I asked. "Just a plain one, please. I'm not used to having my face uncovered."

He bowed even lower and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. I sat still, then got up and paced a little, trying to think. As I passed a shelf, my eye was caught by a set of books. They were purely decorative, but I could rarely pass a book without opening it at least once to see what was contained within the covers. Books and such things had been my sole education: Madame Giry had taught me my letters, and once I had that knowledge, there was nothing to keep me from acquiring more. The opera house had had an extensive library of music, libretti, plays, ballets, engineering and architectural articles, music theory books, dance books, vocal instruction texts, and health books (intended for the dancers and singers; after all, performers had to stay healthy) and other works, and as the years had passed, I had read them all. Textbooks used in the ballet dormitory classrooms helped me to learn history, science, and mathematics. Centime novels and small volumes of poetry read by the performers and other staff were left lying about, and few noticed or cared if they disappeared. Newspapers and magazines left in the opera house by patrons became my property. In this way I read the great dramatic works of the ages, the operas, the popular literature of the modern day and before, and I learned how to read, write, compose, and play music, learned how to design my own buildings and _objets d'art_, how to care for myself, and how to sing. This was how I knew how to coach Christine once she was ready for the instruction.

As I was reading a translation of an English book called _Jane Eyre_ by a lady named Charlotte Bronte, the manservant came back and gave me a black silk mask. Once I had a mask, I felt more like myself, and certainly less vulnerable. I asked to be left alone, and, placing the book aside, I decided to go and explore the house and possibly the grounds. I wandered about the house for hours afterwards, finding most of the rooms shut up and unused, the furniture covered in white sheets. I found my way outside and explored the gardens. They were not tidy nor were they particularly in keeping with the latest mode, but they were wild: the flowers ran wild and grew where they wished, and sometimes the paths had been overtaken by morning glories or ivy. Roses had grown up the trunks of trees and spread out over the branches. One alcove had been covered with them, and small swing hanging from the trees and a playhouse in the corner showed me that it had once been the sanctuary of a child. I smiled, thinking of a child in the house of such a woman. Perhaps the child had been Madame Delphine herself.

I wandered past the cultivated land and into the fields, wondering how long it the groundskeeper to trim the grass. A bell ringing brought me back to myself, and it was then I realized that the sun was setting. I hadn't had lunch or tea, and it was bound to be suppertime soon. I turned back to the house, wondering what I would find when I had supper with Madame Delphine.

Space

I returned to my room and found another hot bath waiting. Sweaty from my walk, I slipped into the water and washed, feeling my stomach growl. I wasn't just hungry, I was ravenous. Once clean, I dried myself off and dressed in the suit of clothing that waited for me. They were clothes that I would have chosen for myself: black trousers, white shirt, burgundy waistcoat, a black evening coat, and a fresh black silk mask.

Once dressed, I left my room and began to search for the dining room, wondering if I was late. I was met by the same manservant, and again, he bowed. "Are you looking for the dining room, sir?"

"I am," I admitted. "Would you show me the way, please?"

He bowed again, and led me along the corridors, remarking that the kitchen was in a frenzy. It was rare that Madame Delpine was home for supper or that she entertained a guest, so the kitchen staff wished to acquit themselves well for tonight's dinner.

I nodded to show I appreciated this. "What is your name, if I may?" I asked, tired of wondering if he would volunteer it.

"I am Jacques, monsieur, and I am your valet. Whatever you ask, I will do."

I thanked him as he opened a door and showed me into the dining room, and once he closed the door, I was alone once again with Madeleine Delphine. She smiled and welcomed me, and asked if I had had a good day. I assured her that I had, and, sitting across from one another, we began our meal.

Her kitchen staff was excellent. The entree, or appetizer, arrived, and it consisted of cheese and toasted bread together on a plate with a small dish of light tomato sauce to dip it in. The salad was lettuce, cabbage, and watercress sprinkled with a raspberry dressing. The soup was a classic onion soup, complete with croutons and cheese, and the fish was haddock cooked in white wine and dill. The principal dish was beef cooked in red wine, asparagus, and potato rosettes. Dessert was something chocolate, raspberry, and pear all at once, and I couldn't learn what it was called, but it was delicious all the same. I thanked all of the luck that I possessed that I had thought to read the etiquette books in the opera library. Many dancers or singers accepted supper invitations, so it was necessary they know which fork or spoon went with which course. Once dessert was finished (I was feeling rather full by this time), Madame Delphine suggested that we take our coffee in the salon. She poured for both of us, and we were silent a few moments, allowing our bodies to rest after such a gastronomic feat. My thoughts wandered for a moment, and I was brought back to earth when Madame Delphine set her cup aside.

"Well, monsieur, have you thought about my offer?" she asked. "Or, if you wish to think longer, is there anything you would like?"

I set my cup aside as well. "I have thought about it," I admitted. "I am still not sure if I should accept or not, but I have nowhere else to go. May I remain for the time being?"

"Of course," she assured me. "Is there anything you need or would like? I wish you to be as comfortable as possible."

I thought for a moment. _Was _there anything I needed? Perhaps some writing paper, and some ink, and access to an instrument. After all, I could still compose, design, or write. I told her this, and she nodded eagerly, saying that those things would be in my study tomorrow morning.

"My study?" I asked, surprised.

"Your study," she affirmed. "It is next to your room, and the door to it will be open when you go to bed tonight, if you wish to see it."

I was beginning to dislike being surprised. "Why are so many doors in my room hidden?" I demanded. "Did you wish to avoid my escape?"

Now it was her turn to be surprised. "Most of the doors in the house are hidden inside the rooms for aesthetic purposes," she explained. "That's how the house was designed."

I nodded, and as I was making my aplogy, a loud crash from upstairs startled us both.

"My apolgies, monsieur, but I shall have to leave you now," she said, leaping from her chair. "Have a pleasant evening."

With that, she was gone, and I was wondering if this house was all that it seemed.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Kudos to my reviewers.

Emma Lipardi: Yes, "Erik" is spelled correctly. That is the spelling found in the original "Phantom of the Opera" by Gaston Leroux. Have you read it? As for his being out of character, you have to remember that he is the object of a manhunt: he needs a place to stay, and he can be a little forgiving for his kidnapping. After all, she had done all the hard work of an escape for him. Yes, shadowsylvia is my sister. Could you possibly get her to review? (hint, hint.)

Victoria: Glad you like it.

Wild Pixie Child: I'm glad it's cool.

Not so Blind Meiko: Don't worry, we're about to learn more.

Chapter 5

As I was having breakfast in my room the next morning, Jacques arrived with several packages for me. Abandoning my meal, I opened them and exulted at what I had found: Manuscript paper, several types of ink, designer's tablets, writing paper, sketchbooks, charcoal pencils, oil pastels, and a writing set with a cherry and silver blotter, blotting paper, cherry wood pens trimmed with silver, nibs, penwipers, a glass and silver inkwell, and a book with Copperplate, Roman, Italian, and Gothic examples of handwriting. Stationery had been included with the writing set, and the writing sheets, cards, and envelopes had been embossed with a Gothic letter E. Apparently, she wished me to have everything I needed.

Jacques handed me a note once I had finished my exultation.

_Dear Monsieur Erik, _it read.

_I hope that these items will be what you need, and I hope that they will stave off boredom. Should you need anything else, inform Jacques, and he will procure what you need. Unfortunately, emergency business matters have called me away, so I must leave you on your own for the time being. The servants have their orders to obey you, and they have also been ordered to make you as comfortable as possible. There are instruments in the music room at your disposal. I must ask you to refrain from visiting the east wing of the house. There are renovations being made, and I do not wish you to see it in such a state. I remain, Monsieur, your hostess, _

_Madame Delphine_

I reread the missive several times and I wondered at it. Why was she so adamant about my not visiting the east wing of the house? I had not seen nor heard any evidence of renovations anywhere in the house: no workers going to or fro, no scaffolding, no lumber, no tools, and no noise of construction or work. What had caused her to lie so obviously?

Space

After I finished my breakfast, Jacques showed me to my study. It was nicely furnished in an echo of my bedroom, and the desk, chairs, bookcases, and tables were exactly what I needed. I spent the morning putting things away and organizing my work areas. While I had been working, Jacques had brought my lunch and cast looks of exasperation in my direction when I kept putting him off, saying that I only had to do one more thing. When I at last emerged from the study, the good fellow was certainly annoyed, but I was elated. I had all the space I needed and all the materials I could want, and the rest of the day I could work in.

Jacques left me alone after lunch, so I went into my study and began to work. I started to design a house: After all, I couldn't stay here forever, and if I had a home of my own, I wished it to be exactly what I liked. The rooms would be large and sunny with plenty of room to move around in, and there would be an expansive garden with a high wall to keep others out. After all, it would be my home, and I was tired of living in caverns. Part of me yearned for the sunshine I remembered from my earliest years.

I was putting the finishing touches on the windows when I heard a loud crash from somewhere in the house. Setting my sketch aside, I sat very still and listened. It came again, and I went out into the hall, still listening. I heard hushed voices and then footsteps. A door closing, and then all was silent.

I was intrigued at these noises. Where were they coming from? Who was making them? Why was there an element of secrecy in this place? I was determined to find out what it was.

Author's Note: Short chappie, I know, but I'm at work. I'll update more later.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I spent the next few days in my study, engrossed in my house project, and I rarely surfaced from it for anything, not even to eat or sleep. More than once I woke up with a crick in my neck and ink on my chin from when I had fallen asleep at the drawing table. Jacques quickly learned that he was not to disturb me while I was working since I threw a pencil at him in exasperation when he attempted to get me to leave my work long enough to take some food and rest. After that, he would come very quietly, and usually leave soup and a little bread, but beyond that, he didn't interrupt me.

My blueprints, final sketches, and supply lists were finished when I jerked awake one morning, ravenously hungry and terribly needing a bath. Years in the cage of the vagrant carnival helped me to appreciate being clean, so I ran the hottest bath I could stand and soaked until my skin turned bright pink. Once clean, I dressed in a clean suit and rang for Jacques. While I waited for him, I put my supplies away and carefully slipped my work into a portfolio to keep it safe for later.

Jacques arrived with a hearty breakfast for me, such as one might find in the country: hot oatmeal with sugar and milk, croissants, café au lait, ham, and eggs. I fell to with a will, soon the majority of the meal was gone, and I was feeling much better.

"Is there anything else you require, Monsieur?" Jacques asked, bowing.

"No, thank you, Jacques," I said as he took the tray away. "I'll be fine."

"What are you planning to do today, Monsieur?" he asked, wiping the table.

Immediately I was suspicious. Why did he need to know? Was he simply being friendly, or was he reporting to Madame Delphine? I decided to err on the side of caution. "I haven't really decided yet. I need some exercise, so I think I'll walk about for a while, and then play a little music later."

Jacques bowed in acknowledgement of my response and took himself off, ostensibly to deliver the dishes to the scullery maid. I, however, decided to head outside, away from any possible prying eyes.

The gardens were fabulous: winter had at last ended, and most of the flowers were beginning to bloom. I wandered about, looking at flowers and wondering if I could possibly find the library here and locate a book on flowers: I knew what roses were (they were the most common flower in the opera house) and carnations (worn in gentlemen's lapels) and morning glories and ivy (they grew along the walls of the opera house), but I knew very few flowers on sight. I'd have to learn a little more about flowers.

Space

I was heading back to my rooms that afternoon when I could have sworn I heard footsteps keeping pace with mine. I was in the hallway, and I knew there was no one else besides me there, but I could hear others' footsteps. They stopped when I stopped, and continued only when I did. Once, I stopped very quickly, and for a moment I heard them clearly. There were two sets, and one had tripped because the one had stopped suddenly in response to me stopping.

There was something strange about those footsteps, but I couldn't decide on it. They sounded as if they werea long way from me, yet, I had a feeling they were close. They sounded as if they were steps that ladies took: in the city, it was fashionable for ladies to take small steps in order to appear as if they were gliding across the ground, but some part of me told me that these steps did not belong to ladies. Who else would be here? I knew for certain that Madame Delphine was from home, and who else would she have as a guest? I was determined to ask Jacques.

Jacques served me my lunch in my rooms soon after I arrived there, so I asked him about Madame's other guests.

"Other guests, Monsieur? There are no other guests. There is only you," he said, looking genuinely perplexed.

"But I heard footsteps earlier," I persisted. "They didn't sound like anyone on the staff, either. Whose footsteps were they?"

Jacques looked surprised. "Where were you, Monsieur?" he asked.

"In a hallway," I answered, not seeing what that had to do with anything. "The one with the bust of Diana."

"Ah, Monsieur, I see what it is now. We of the house call them les farceurs, or the jokers. That hallway is said to be haunted, and usually they will pull little pranks, but nothing dangerous. Footsteps are the most commonly reported joke."

I looked at him. "Ghosts? Of whom?"

"We think they are children, Monsieur. The pranks they pull are all things a child would do. Beyond that, we do not know."

I thought about this. I didn't believe in ghosts, but others did, I knew, but why would ghosts waste their time trailing me? I didn't understand it.

Jacques left me soon afterward, telling me before he left that the ghosts were nothing to be afraid of. I sat for a few moments, thinking about what he had said and what I had heard in the hallway. What he had said made sense, but I really didn't believe that what I had heard had been ghosts. The footsteps had sounded too...earthly.

Frustrated with ruminating, I decided to go and find the music room. After all, it had been a while since I had played. My hands were out of practice. I wandered about, thinking about what I had heard, and wondering if Madame Delphine had been completely honest with me. After all, she was a woman who served her own interests first. Perhaps it had suited her to keep something concealed from me.

I was still thinking about this when I heard the music.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I had once read the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and, like so many others, I had enjoyed the exploits of his star detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. As I crept closer to the source of the music, I reflected that the mystery in which I found myself would have intrigued the great detective to no end. The large house, the music I was hearing when there could have been no one else in the house that played, and the fact that there was something that Madame Delphine was keeping from me made a fascinating mystery. Madame Delphine had given the impression that I would be alone except for the servants, and I was sure that they all had too much work to do without spending time playing. So who was it?

Cautiously, I made my way to the door and opened it as quickly as I dared. One moment, there was music, and the next, there was a flurry of movement. The person at the piano fled to the other side of the room, and the person standing there stood in front of the smaller figure, protecting it. It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing.

"Monsieur," the elder of the two girls gasped. "I beg your pardon—we didn't know---"

Some corner of my mind told me to stop staring. Of all things I had expected, I hadn't expected a young woman of about twenty, or a little girl of about twelve, but there they both were, staring at me as if I held their lives in my hands. Hobgoblins, pookas, or brownies I expected, but certainly not two human girls.

"It is all right, mademoiselle," I said quickly to allay her fears. "I heard music, and I wondered who was playing."

The smaller one peeked out from behind the older one. I could tell right away that they were sisters. "I was," she said, barely loud enough for me to hear.

"Claudia," the elder one hissed. I had a feeling that, for some reason, they weren't allowed in the music room.

"But Jeanette, I was," the mite insisted. "And I was doing well."

"I could hear that, mademoiselle," I said, smiling. "Forgive me if I startled you, I did not know that Madame Delphine had other guests."

Claudia giggled but quickly stifled it. Jeanette sighed. "We are not guests, monsieur," she said, sounding sad for some reason. "We are her daughters."

I had not expected this. "Daughters?"

"Mamma doesn't like us to be underfoot," Claudia explained. "So we keep out of her way. She told us you were here, and that we weren't to trouble you."

Instantly, it all fell into place: the bower in the garden, the crashes I'd been hearing, and the footsteps—all of it pointed to two youngsters.

"What trouble could you cause?" I asked Claudia, surprised. "It has been lonely here, and I would welcome your company, great lady."

Claudia giggled again, amused by my form of address. Jeanette, however, was not at ease with me.

"Mamma would be very upset if she knew you had found us," she persisted. "You see, we're not allowed in the music room while Mamma has a guest, and if she knew—"

"Your secret is safe with me," I hastened to assure her. "She will not know. Do you both play?"

"_I_ play," Claudia said, returning to the piano bench. "Jeanette doesn't, though. She sings."

I felt my heart give a lurch. "Do you?" I asked, struggling for my earlier equilibrium.

"She sings _beautifully_," Claudia said, playing a scale. "Like a bird, she sings."

"I'm not that good," Jeanette said humbly. "I just sing; that's all."

"I think you're wonderful," Claudia interrupted, still playing scales.

"Has no one taught you?" I asked. "Hasn't Madame Delphine arranged for you to have a teacher?"

"No, monsieur, she hasn't. She says she hasn't the time to arrange for a governess for us or a music teacher, so we go along the best we can."

"If that is so," I said, puzzled, "then how is Claudia able to play?"

Claudia smiled. "One of Mamma's lady's maids knew how to play. Her father was a teacher, and he taught her how. She taught both of us, but then she left."

"Left?"

"Her father was ill, and she went to nurse him," Jeanette explained. "She taught both of us, but Claudia is the one who understands it."

"She said I had perfect hands for it," Claudia boasted.

That maid had been right. I watched Claudia as she played, and I saw an ease in her playing that I rarely saw in anyone, not even the three opera house pianists. With more instruction, I could see that she would become truly remarkable.

A bell rang somewhere in the house. Jeanette heard it, and curtsied.

"Forgive us, monsieur, but that is the signal for our supper. Mamma insists that we dine early. If you'll excuse us?"

"Of course," I said, nodding. Before they both left, Claudia gave me a cheerful wave. To my surprise, I found myself waving back.

Space

I learned more about the two girls in the successive days. They were hesitant to speak to me at first, but I persisted, and soon, they came to confide in me and smile when I arrived. Few people had ever done that before. Apparently, these girls had led lonely lives, and it seemed that "Mamma" was a person to be obeyed and not bothered, and there were no others for the girls to turn to but themselves. Jeanette, it seemed, had been taught to read and write by her nurse, but when Claudia arrived, the lessons had stopped, and Jeanette had been made to care for her little sister without the aid of anyone else. Since then neither one had been taught little more than her letters and numbers.

They had made up for it, though. Each time I talked to them, they would surprise me by describing a scene from a book or quoting passages verbatim. Novels, poetry, plays, scientific works, philosophy, mathematics, geography, history, medicine, foreign languages, religion, and of course, music—there seemed to be little that they hadn't read. Madame Delphine, I found out, had a fabulous and complete library. Most of the books had been bought for the decorative bindings they possessed, but fortunately, almost all of them were worth reading. When I asked Jeanette, she said that Madame Delphine wished to impress the guests she did bring to the house with how well-read she was and what fine volumes filled her shelves. Jeanette laughed when she said this. "Of course, a guest will be impressed with her reading as long as they don't see the dust that's collected on some of the shelves. If she read a lot, the library wouldn't be as dusty as it is."

I enjoyed the girls' company far more than that of my own or Jacques'. Jeanette was quiet, reflective, and peaceful to be around, while Claudia was boisterous, affectionate, and stimulating. I was throttled with her enthusiastic greeting embrace every day when I entered the room, and she peppered me with questions as long as I kept answering them. Often I would rack my memory for a piece of information I knew would answer her queries, and it was in this way that I remembered a great deal that I hadn't thought of for some time.

I began to neglect my study in favor of the music room or the girls' little schoolroom off the library. It was a pleasant room with two small desks, a map hanging on the wall, a large chalkboard with a copious supply of chalk, hardwood floors, wall paneling of the same wood, large windows, shelves of books, reams of paper, and countless other supplies. My first experience in that room was a surprise. As soon as we had entered, Claudia piped up, "Who is to be teacher today?"

I stared at her. "What do you mean?"

Claudia smiled. "Jeanette and I take turns being teacher. Some days I teach, and other days Jeanette teaches. It keeps our lessons interesting."

I could feel myself smiling. "How do you know what to teach?" I asked.

Jeanette smiled. "We sit down every six months and decide what we should learn," she explained. "Then we write up the plan and teach from that."

My smile widened. It was terribly clever!

"Monsieur Erik should teach," Claudia said suddenly. "He hasn't gotten a chance to."

Jeanette looked at me, uncertain.

"I would be delighted to, if you can stand my droning," I said, giving them both a little bow.

Both girls smiled and took their places at their desks, and Claudia told me where the plan was to be found. I found it, took it out, and examined it. For that week, they were studying the Pythagorean theorem and rational numbers, English pronouns, writing compositions with different seasons as the themes, describing the parts of a flower and their purposes, and drawing copies of a print from an architecture book. It was a view of Notre Dame, a wonderful view that showed the flying buttresses. It seemed a good place as any to start. "Why don't we begin with drawing?" I suggested.

Space

"You have been absent of late, monsieur," Jacques said as he served my supper later that night. "Where is it you have been going?"

I smiled. "The library, Jacques. I find the books interesting. Madame Delphine has a fabulous selection, and her taste in literature is quite good." I thought it politic to throw in a compliment that he could relay to his mistress.

"Is it only the books, monsieur?"

_He's fishing for information,_ I thought. I decided to play it safe. "Well, the light is very good there. No matter how many lamps are in the study, the light there is still inferior. I managed to complete five sketches today."

"Ah," Jacques said in answer. "I see."

I watched him as he left and prayed that he didn't suspect I had met the girls. I had a feeling that Madame Delphine did not want me to know of them, and part of me felt that if she learned of our time together, she would put a stop to it. The desolation I'd felt at Christine's departure had begun to dissipate while I was in Jeanette's and Claudia's company, and I did not want it to condense on me again.


	6. Chapter 6

One thing I could not understand was how accepting of me the two girls were. It did not seem to matter that I hid my face behind a mask. I saw Jeanette and Claudia almost every day, yet neither one asked or even seemed to notice my mask. Christine had been in my home for less than twenty-four hours before she removed my mask, but Jeanette and Claudia did not even seem to care that I wore it. This perplexed me.

I wasn't complaining, mind you. No, I was happy that I was accepted for who I was and what I seemed to be, and I was elated that both of them smiled when they saw me. Except for Christine's false smiles, that had never happened to me before.

It was difficult, though, to spend time together. Jacques always contrived to be at my side in case he was needed, but he also managed to be in the way a great deal. It took all of my effort to lose him whenever I went to see the girls, and later when he would complain that he had lost me, I would answer that I had thought he'd been right behind me all along. It irked him terribly whenever I said that.

Occasionally I would receive a letter from Madame Delphine. All letters I had from her included her itinerary, a description of the hotel and city she was currently in, descriptions of her activities, and they closed with wishes of good will and how she wished I could be with her. Traveling about Europe with a fashion mogul? No, thank you. I had done enough traveling. I was quite content on my own in her country house with her lovely and amusing daughters for company.

They _were_ amusing, and we had great fun together. Every night we would meet in one of the closed up rooms in some far corner of the house, and once there, we would light a fire to keep us warm and to provide light while we put on plays, pantomimes, and spectacles. It was amazing how well Claudia could do at charades, and what a budding little actress she was. You never saw a young girl look more aghast at an imagined scandal, more penitent over some grievous imagined sin, or more amused at some antic just out of sight of the audience. More than once Jeanette and I had trouble breathing due to the stitches that little girl had us in.

When they asked me to tell a story, I would hem and haw and pretend not to know any to tell, but both would be ruthless as they ganged up on me and demand a story. I would acquiesce after a token resistance, and I would tell Romany stories, tales from India, Persian fairy tales, Russian tales, old French fables and tales from the _Cabinet des Fees_, and stories I had heard or read. I had read one fairy tale called "Fair, Brown, and Trembling," which was an Irish version of Cinderella, and it was one they asked for often. On stormy nights we would all take a turn at telling ghost stories, and usually mine would send the girls shrieking under their wraps. One morning Jeanette told me that Claudia had been unable to close her eyes all night due to a story I had told, but despite this, the little girl begged me for another like it.

Why did I enjoy these girls' company so much? One would think, that after all that I had been through, I would shun their society, but that wasn't the case at all. It was the first thing I thought of in the morning and the last thing on my mind at night. I began to neglect my study in favor of spending time with the girls, and Jacques continued fishing for information regarding where I spent my days and what I did. I put him off as much as possible, but I knew that it was only a matter of time before he found out what I was doing.

Space

Jeanette, Claudia, and I were in the music room one afternoon when we were discovered by Jacques. I had finally coaxed Jeanette to sing, and we were nearing the best part of the song when Jacques flung open the door, startling all three of us to death. Angry, I leapt to my feet and advanced on him, demanding to know what he thought he was doing and what he meant by barging in like that.

"Monsieur, I must protest," he said, sounding surprised that I would complain about his coming. "Madame does not wish these young ladies to bother you, yet you seek them out! Soon you will feel their company too irksome—"

"I most certainly will not!" I protested. "I find their company delightful and quite diverting. Why Madame Delphine did not wish me to meet these charming young ladies is beyond my reasoning faculties. If you _must_ inform her of our acquaintance, be sure to tell her how much fun I've had." I was enjoying watching him sweat. Ten to one, she had told him to make sure that I never found out about her daughters, and yet I had still found out. That meant that he had failed and that he would have to answer to Madame Delphine for his failure. "In fact, I'll write to her myself to let her know."

Jacques turned a pasty white color. Poor man, I was scaring him to death. _Good,_ I thought. _It serves that prying bloodhound right._

Jacques nodded, gave a bow, and left, most likely to put some liniment on his dignity. I laughed, but Jeanette and Claudia were not amused.

"What's the matter?" I asked, confused.

"If Mamma is upset, she may send us away or order us to keep away from you," Jeanette said sadly. "I don't want that to happen, Monsieur Erik. You have been the best of friends to us."

"Do not worry, Mademoiselle Jeanette," I answered. "I won't allow it to happen."

Reassured, Claudia took my hand in hers and smiled, and Jeanette smiled as well, but her eyes were still clouded with worry. I resolved to clear that worry as soon as possible.

Before I went to bed that evening, I sat down to write a letter to Madame Delphine using the stationary she provided for me. I went through several drafts before I finished the final copy.

_Dear Madame,_

_I thank you for you last letter, and in answer, I have been very well and quite occupied of late. No doubt your latest letter from Jacques will inform you, but I have decided to write to you myself. I have met Jeanette and Claudia, and I must admit, I have never met more charming or amusing young ladies. Jeanette is a calming presence, while Claudia is enough stimulation for us both. The young ladies and I spend most of our time together, and it has been a lifetime since I have had better company. Jacques has given me the impression that you did not wish us to meet, but our meeting was fortuitous, and our association has been most enjoyable. You need not worry, I treat both ladies with every amount of respect I am capable of showing, and they have no better protector in the world than I. I ask that you do not try to curtail our time together since they have been the sole means of clearing the depression that I had begun to suffer. I had known it was coming, and once it set in, it was difficult to clear. I had thought it impossible to get rid of, but one afternoon with your daughters has made me a changed man. I thank you for allowing our association and I hope you will allow its continuance._

_I remain, Madame, your obedient servant and grateful friend,_

_Erik_

Once finished, I blotted the page and sealed it in an envelope. It would be mailed in the morning.

Space

Two weeks after I had sent my letter, I received another letter from Madame Delphine while I was having my breakfast. It was hard to read, for it had not been blotted before being sent out, but after a bit of work I was able to make it out. It read,

_Dear Monsieur Erik,_

_I am distressed to hear that my daughters impose on you so much, but since you enjoy their company, I will not put a stop to it. I only hope that they remember their manners. Somehow I have been tricked into hosting a Mardi Gras party at my country home, so guests will begin descending on the house soon after my arrival. If you wish, you may attend the parties leading up to the Grande Masque, as they are all masked, but I do ask that you come to the Grande Masque. Everyone will be there. I thank you in advance, and I shall see you about a week after this letter._

_Most respectfully, _

_Mme. Madeleine Delphine_


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: My thanks to all who reviewed! Sheet music and red roses!

IceQueen1: Yes, I am still working on it. School, etc., often take time from things I would rather be working on. THANK YOU SO MUCH REGARDING MY CHARACTERS! That really made my day.

Phantom'sJediBandieGirl: Yes, he does seem a little too open, but you must remember, he's had little choice in what's happened to him since the Opera House. Right now, he's just going with the flow. Thanks so much for R&R!

As you can tell, reviews rock my little world!

Chapter 7

Madame Delphine's return home sent the staff into a flurry of activity. From the time her letter arrived announcing that she would be returning with guests to the time the first carriages rolled up the drive, it was not quiet a moment. Servants slept in shifts, which meant that there were people working all around the clock. More than once I was woken up by someone dropping something or banging a bucket orclattering aroundoutside my door. Often when Jacques came to wake me in the morning, I would throw a pillow at him and growl at him to get out.

The girls were also tired from all of the noise, and Claudia became a little savage. She didn't want to study, she didn't want to play, she didn't want to do anything except be left alone. I now knew why so many men chose not to have children.

"She's like this whenever she's tired," Jeanette explained patiently while I rubbed my knee where Claudia had kicked me. "If it weren't so cold outside, she and I could go and sleep in the playhouse, but there's no way to keep it warm in winter, so we're trapped in here."

"Is there _anywhere_ in the house that isn't being invaded by servants?" I asked, tired enough to snarl.

Jeanette shook her head. "Nowhere but the garret and the floor below it, and that's where they have their quarters. We're trapped."

We were, unfortunately. If we found a quiet corner of the house, it wasn't long before maids would come in swinging buckets and carrying scrub brushes, usually talking at the tops of their lungs. By the time Madame Delphine arrived, Jeanette, Claudia, and I were in the foulest moods imaginable.

While guests poured into the house, the girls and I kept to ourselves. It was relatively quiet now that all of the cleaning was finished, and Claudia fell asleep on Jeanette's lap. Leaning back in her chair, she quickly followed her sister.

_What a picture_, I thought as I watched them both sleep. Claudia leaned against Jeanette's shoulder, her curls falling down her back, her little-girl countenance smiling at something she dreamed. Jeanette was tranquil, eyes closed, also smiling, and the two sisters had their arms wrapped around one another. I took up a pad of paper and some charcoal and began drawing them, but I soon fell asleep myself, lulled by the warm fire and the peace and quiet.

I awoke at a touch on my shoulder. I started, and stared up at Madame Delphine, who had a very odd smile on her face.

"Even with the mask on, you look so innocent asleep," she said quietly in an effort to not wake the girls. "I almost couldn't bear to wake you."

"Why did you then?" I growled, suddenly upset. I had been dreaming, and sleeping, after having been deprived of it for several nights running, had been so nice. Why had she woken me, _why_?

"My, aren't we cranky?" she said, the same as one would say to a petulant child. "Perhaps I should let you continue with your nap?"

I glared at her, wondering why she was suddenly treating me like a child. Being spoken to like a child was insufferable, and coming from _her_, who ignored her own children, was not to be borne.

For some reason, she took my annoyance as anxiety. "Oh, don't worry, little one, I'll tuck you in all nice and warm," she continued, still smiling in that odd way.

This infuriated me. I leapt from my chair, knocking it over, and advanced on her. "Madame, you come perilously close to. . ."

The sound of applause stopped me short. I turned, and saw an entire _crowd_ of people standing just inside the door.

Madame Delphine laughed. "You see, Olympe?" she said to a rather buxom woman at the front of the group. "I told you that would make him angry! I told you that he wasn't all 'mystery and cunning!' He can be made angry like any other man, now pay up!"

I watched, dumbfounded, as Olympe handed over several hundred-franc notes, looking resigned.

"Oh, well," she said, shrugging. "At least the way he dresses gives him an air of distinction. I find himquite remarkable.Well chosen, Madeleine."

I was thankful that I was wearing a mask since I was now blushing. If they had seen my face, they would have seen a painful scarlet terror, instead of a cadaverous one. How _dare_ they discuss me as if I were a painting or piece of furniture! I was a person, a man namedErik, and not an object to be praised or admired. I was ERIK, and they would have done well to remember it!

I felt fury flooding me. My fingers itched to tighten around their smug, snobbish little throats! Nothing would have made me happier than to choke the lot of them, watching them gasp for air, their eyes pleading--

I stopped, surprised at the intensity of what I was feeling. I hadn't been so enraged since I had wanted to kill de Chagney.

Madame Delphine turned back to me. "Ah, speechless, _mon cher_?" she teased. "These are all of my friends," she said, waving a hand towards the lot of them. "My friends, this is Monsieur Erik."

That was when the odor of bad wine reached me. They had been drinking the worst stuff imaginable, and now they were all drunk. That was why their behavior was so horrendous.

I gave a short bow. "_Mesdames. Messieurs_," I said, as politely as I could muster. After all, they didn't deserve to diefor bad manners or drunkenness (but they were close, let me tell you).

Quite a few of them found that _terribly_ amusing, and they hid their smirks and chuckles behind their gloves, fans,or handkerchiefs. I fought down the urge to look for something to throw. Preferably, something that was large and expensive and irreplaceable.

"Well, you've introduced us to your prodigy, Madeleine," a fop said, tucking his handkerchief away. "Now, would you introduce us to those _lovely_ young daughters of yours that he ferreted out?" He turned on her with a lascivious smile and raised one eyebrow suggestively.

The next thing I knew, I was on top of him, choking him and ramming his head into the parquet floor beneath us. The most I could remember screaming was "How _dare_ you even _think _of them in such a way, you bastard! If you even lay your filthy _eyes _on them I'll tear you apart with my bare hands!"

"Klaus! Herve! Get in here! NOW!"

Strong arms pulled me off the foolish young peacock and held me with my arms pinioned behind my back. I looked, and saw two _enormous_ men holding me still.

"You probably don't remember Klaus and Herve, Monsieur Erik," Madame Delphine said, advancing on me with a malicious look in her eye. "They are the ones who retrieved you for me. Now, are you finished trying to murder one of my friends?"

"As long as he leaves the _mademoiselles_ alone," I said.

She glared at me, but she turned to the young idiot. "Jean-Paul, you won't go near my daughters, will you?" she asked sweetly.

"Not after _that_," the young man said, still rubbing his throat. "They'll be safe from me."

Madame Delphine turned back to me. "Satisfied? All right, then, let's get one thing straight: You do not attack my guests. Do so, and I shall call the police here and tell them that you had broken in and tried to murder us. Understood?"

I glared at her, ready to _kill_ her for making such a threat, but I nodded. I should have expected her to try to control me. After all, she was very used to having her way.

"All right, then, I suggest you retire for the night in order to cool down," she continued. "Klaus and Herve will take you back to your room."

I glared at her, but I went with them anyway, given that they were still holding onto my arms. I knew it would be folly to try fighting them since they were so much bigger, stronger, and there were two of them. I was strong and able to protect myself, but ye gods and little fishes! Those two toughs put the Titans themselves to shame.

I was practically _tossed _into my room, and as I picked myself up from the carpet, I heard the door close and lock behind me. As I stood, I heard another sound: weeping.

I looked, and there on the sofa were Jeanette and Claudia, wrapped in one another's arms and crying. Both of them were white and looked as if they were frightened. How had they gotten here from that sitting room, and how come I hadn't seen them leave? More importantly, why were they crying?

"Where are they?" Jeanette choked out. "Are they still here?"

"They're in the sitting room," I said, trying to calm them down. "I won't let them near you."

Jeanette's only answer was a sob.

"I hate when Mamma has guests, I _hate _it!" Claudia said savagely. "They never leave us alone, and if they are men, they always try to get us to 'play'. . ."

I felt myself blush again. If that child meant what I thought she meant, then she was far from the innocent little mite I had thought her to be!

"We have not had good experiences with the guests that Mamma chooses to bring home," Jeanette said quietly, rocking her little sister back and forth.

"I won't let them near you," I heard myself promise. "I will protect you both."

Claudia looked me, and, leaving her sister's lap, came over and motioned for me to bend down. Once I had done so, she flung her little arms around my neck and sobbed, relieved that they both had a protector. I held her, unable to take my arms away from her.

"Monsieur Erik," Jeanette said, sounding very worried. "Did they. . .lock us in here with you?"

I nodded.

She smiled. "Good."

I stared at her. "Why 'good'?" I wanted to know.

"No one else will be able to get in or out, except us."

I stared at her again. "No, we won't be able to leave, either," I pointed out. "The door is locked for us, too, you know."

She smiled. "_That _door is, perhaps, but not _our_ door."

I placed Claudia on the couch and went to Jeanette, intent to see if she were ill or raving, but she seemed fine.

"Could you explain, please?"

"We have our own way around the house," she explained. "The way the house is built is secret even to Mamma. It's full of tunnels, secret passages, hidden doors, spyholes,and even secret rooms. We found them one day when it was raining and too wet to go out."

I felt my breath catch. It sounded so much like the Opera!

I felt Claudia wrap her arms around my waist as she regarded her sister. "Shall we show him, Jeanette?"

Jeanette smiled and nodded as Claudia took my hand. Going to my dressing table, she turned one of the drawer knobs and waited. Silently, what seemed to be a _wall_ slid away, revealing a passage. Picking up a lantern and lighting it, Jeanette led the way into the passage. Claudia and I followed, and we stopped only long enough for Jeanette to throw the switch to make the panel slide back to the way it had been.

"Ingenious," I said, admiring the smooth action of the mechanism. "Who built this house?"

"We have no idea, but it is over one hundred years old," Jeanette whispered. "Be as quiet as you can, as sound tends to carry."

I was quiet, suddenly understanding Jacques' story of the ghosts. It hadn't been ghosts everyone had been hearing, it had been the two girls! Hilarious!

We walked through the passages, as silent as ghosts ourselves, and in whispers the girls showed meevery inch of their secret domain. Tunnels and passageways, and secret rooms full of furniture, valuables, clothing, books, and other things were delights to examine. Apparently, someone had hidden his valuables away and had failed to retrieve them. Forts had been made out of the furniture, and valuables had been set up to mimic a village, with different casks and chests representing buildings. The rooms full of clothing had obviously seen several episodes of "dress up," and the rooms with books had been made into comfortable libraries. The other things were usually pieces of lumber or old mirrors, too tarnished or warped with age to be of any use, and all had been shoved away as if they didn't belong anywhere.

The greatest fun, to my mind, were the spyholes. You could open them up all over the house, and see into almost every room. We spied for a while on Madame Delphine and her guests while they werebeing "sociable" down in the front parlor. After a while, things began to be rather. . .heated, so we took Claudia away and headed back upstairs.

We were passing a staircase that led down when I felt a cold breeze on my face. I looked down those stairs, intrigued.

"Where do these lead?" I asked, putting my hand on the banister, ready to go down.

"Don't go down there!" Jeanette hissed, pulling me away. "That leads to the crypt!"

"_Crypt_?"

Claudia was now pulling me away as well.

"There's a _crypt_ in this house?" I asked, shocked.

"Yes," Jeanette whispered. "We only made it down there once."

"It was awful," Claudia said, as Jeanette led us away from the stairs.

"Why?" I asked. "What happened?"

Jeanette refused to say until we reached my rooms again and had the panel shut firmly behind us. Now that we were out of the tunnels, Claudia seemed to lose a little of her fear and headed over to my bed to bounce. Jeanette scolded her, but she ignored the both of us, blithely bouncing away.

"I give up," Jeanette muttered, sinking into a chair with a grace that strangely attracted my attention. "Well, you wanted to hear about the crypt?"

I nodded.

"Well, as soon as we got down there, we realized that it was very cold. It was summertime, and yes, we were underground, but I had a feeling that it should have been as cold as it was. There was this feeling of walking into a crowded room, but there was no one there. That was when the whispering started. We could hear voices all around us, whispering, but we saw no one. We became frightened and headed back to the stairs, and we could _hear _someone running up behind us until we left the crypt stairway. _That _is why we do not go down there."

"I'd go down, if I had a lantern," Claudia said, bouncing from my bed to the floor.

"Absolutely not!" Jeanette and I both cried together. We looked at one another and laughed, too surprised to do any more than that.

Claudia regarded us thoughtfully. "You two behave like a married couple, you know? You really do."

I didn't have to look at Jeanette to know that she was blushing as much as I was.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Claudia, Jeanette, and I began to run through the tunnels every day. More than once we frightened some unwary guest by coming out of nowhere at them, and I caused one very distinguished lady to faint by appearing out of a seemingly "solid" wall. I described the incident to the girls and had them laughing helplessly within moments.

After my demonstration with that one irritating little peacock, the men left the _mademoiselles_ alone. Whenever one began to look at them too closely, all it took was my presence and glare to get them to think of other matters. We spent our time together, often avoiding the guests as much as we chose to startle them, and we began to feel quite happy and confident in our freedom.

I should have known that it was too good to last.

After seeing the girls to their room one evening, I returned to my bedroom to find that a fabulous costume and mask had been laid out for me. Jacques was there, looking quite upset.

"Oh, at last, monsieur!" he cried as I walked in. "Madame asked me to bring this to you an hour ago, and she is getting quite impatient."

"Well, she shall have to learn patience," I remarked dryly. "What the devil is that doing here?" I asked, indicating the costume.

"Madame wishes you join the masked ball tonight, and it is already underway," he explained, bowing. "You shall be very late if you do not hurry."

"Perhaps Madame Delphine and the other guests are all early," I said facetiously. "But if my not going means you shall have an aneurysm from the stress, my friend, don't worry, I intend to go."

He thanked me and bowed repeatedly while I sent him out, telling him I had no need of help to dress, but I had been too sure of myself. _Everything_ on that wretched costume tied, and they were ties that were almost impossible to reach on one's own. It took me fifteen minutes to dress, and once dressed, it took five minutes to get the mask and hat on correctly. Once I was ready, I regarded myself in the mirror, seeing a man garbed in black and silver, with a mask made of a tiny mosaic of mirrors. Interesting. I would be sending everyone's reflection back at them. Hmm.

I went downstairs to a scene of absolute riot. Everyone was already drunk or under the influence of other substances, and for a moment, I recoiled, knowing how idiots behaved when such materials were used, but I pressed on. I would make an appearance, perform a little sleight of hand, and _go_. I did not have to stay.

Madame Delphine spotted me straightaway and made right for me. She gabbled in my ear about how fabulous I looked and how wonderful it was that I could come. I fought down a snort of derision. Since when had I had any choice in the matter? Trapped by her pinching fingers, she led me around the room, circulating amongst all of her guests. I saw devils, harem girls, angels (how inappropriate!), old fashioned ladies and gentlemen, clowns, beasts, royalty, a priest (highly inappropriate!), and costumes that didn't resemble _anything _I knew. Perhaps they were from the artists' dreams? I couldn't say.

I was trapped in a mindless conversation about the latest idiot in the tabloids when I saw two visions approaching. One was dressed in a wedding dress, complete with veil, orange blossoms, white satin, gloves, lace, and bouquet of white roses; while the other was dressed in a gorgeous cloud of fabric that was the same pristine white as the orange blossoms. To complete the little vision, she also wore a crown of the same blossoms on her head, lace gloves, and little silk slippers. The bride and her attendant were none other than Jeanette and Claudia.

"Ah, my daughters, at last!" Madame Delphine said, hugging the both of them. Claudia looked very confused and regarded her mother as if she were a stranger. Ten to one, she probably was.

"Thank you for asking us to come to the party, Mamma," Jeanette said prettily. "And thank you for the lovely costumes."

"Oh, you are quite welcome, my dears," she gushed, smiling and showing all of her teeth. Why was it I had never noticed her crooked teeth before?

"Jeanette looks like a bride, Monsieur Erik," Claudia said, smiling. "You look like a groom. What am I, if you are a groom and Jeanette is a bride?"

I fought down a smile. "You are a vision," I told her, deadly serious.

Her entire face lit up, and she pulled on Jeanette's hand in excitement. "Did you hear, Jeanette? Monsieur Erik says I am a vision!"

Jeanette flashed me a grateful smile from behind her veil. She was not at ease at the party, and keeping Claudia safe and happy was all that mattered. I stayed by their sides the entire time, and as we passed mirrors, I realized that what Claudia had said was true. We resembled a bridal party. Despite the ties and sumptuousness of the costume, it did resemble a groom's tailcoat and top hat. All I needed was a boutonniere and I would be ready to say my vows.

The ridiculousness of it made me smile beneath the mask. I, married? Certainly not! I had learned my lesson well the first time. There would not be a second.

We circulated the entire night, and as it was nearing midnight, Madame Delphine called us all to gather in the next room. As soon as I walked in, I realized that I would have to perform after all. There were seats set up, with a central aisle down the middle of them, and a clear space for a stage in front. Cursing the short notice, I began to limber my fingers.

"Oh, ho! He's nervous!" one of the many fops shouted, having spotted my flying fingers. I resisted the urge to wrap them around his scrawny neck. Instead, I began planning my program. Perhaps a little fortune-telling to begin with. . .More than one person was chuckling. What was so damned funny?

Herve ushered me up to the front, saying in a loud, drunken voice that there was nothing to worry about. More laughter. I tripped him and he fell flat on his face, eliciting more laughter from the crowd taking their seats. Only then did I notice that Jeanette and Claudia were not at my side. Where had they gone?

Herve lumbered to his feet and escorted me the rest of the way, muttering that I had nothing to worry about and that it was all right. I ignored him, trying to get my fingers in a working condition. As I got up to the front, I noticed that there was a table set up with a cup and plate and a book, but not much else. Well, I had created better illusions with little else. I just hoped I could think of one. . .

Everyone grew quiet as they sat, and they watched the front of the room expectantly. How to begin when most of them were too drunk to appreciate art? It was insufferable to perform for imbeciles!

That was when the music started. One young man disguised as a demon had sat down at the piano and began to play a very creditable Kyrie. I stood there, struck senseless. What on earth was going on?

That was when Klaus sent Claudia up the aisle, carrying her own little bouquet. She looked radiant, and she smiled at me as she reached the front. I made to go to her, but Herve held me back and placed a boutonniere in my lapel, telling me to patient.

I'd had it with being patient! "Either you tell me. . ." I began, but I was struck dumb at the sight of Klaus escorting Jeanette up the aisle towards us. At last, I understood. It was a mock wedding ceremony. Everyone was applauding and complimenting the bride on her outfit when they were not singing the Kyrie.

"This is outrageous," I muttered, glaring at Herve. "I am not about to be made a fool of!"

"It's only a game," Herve muttered back. "Play along."

I did not find mocking church ceremonies amusing.

Jeanette reached the front of the aisle, and I took her hand when prompted to by Herve.

"Is this a game?" Jeanette whispered, looking very nervous. "It _is_ you, isn't it, Monsieur Erik?"

"Yes," I whispered back. "What's wrong?"

"Mamma's often tried to trick me into marrying one of her wretched friends, to get rid of me, she said. I just wanted to be sure that this wasn't one of those times."

I chuckled. "Not to worry, _ma petite_," I promised her. "We'll amuse the common folk and then we'll go back upstairs and read a chapter of _Paul et Virginie_ before you both go to bed. It will be nothing but twenty minutes."

I was wrong. A guest dressed as a priest stepped forward and began to speak to the crowd. He was very long-winded and kept on going on about how wonderful marriage was and how we would be spending all of our lives together. I resisted the urge to slap him, and Claudia began to look very bored and to pass the time, began to play catch with her bouquet. Only a sharp word from Madame Delphine made her stop.

_Gloria in excelsis Deo_ followed, as did the credo, _Sanctus, _and _Agnus Dei._ The "priest" continued with the ceremony, and the vows began. I began to protest at the game, but Madame Delphine insisted. We exchanged rings, and I heard the "priest" say, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may exchange a kiss."

"I'm not about to inflict that on the mademoiselle," I said dryly, turning to the "priest." "The game has gone on long enough."

"Custom must not be outraged, monsieur, not giving your bride a wedding kiss," he said, reminding me of a pool of oily water. "You'd best kiss her, but won't you take off your mask and allow the bride to see your face?"

So it was a trick to get me to take off the mask!

"Let's see your face, monsieur!" the other guests began shouting. "Yes, let the little minx see what she's married!"

Now I was furious on Jeanette's behalf! How dare they insult her so!

"What do you mean?" Jeanette said. Despite how quietly she had spoken, everyone had heard her, and the majority laughed in response.

"Why, it's your wedding, my dear," Madame Delphine said, sounding supremely satisfied. "I told you I would have revenge on your father for forcing me to bear you, and here it is: I have married you to a monster as awful as he was! Enjoy your marriage, child!"

Now, Madame Delphine was no longer beautiful. A savage smile spread itself over her face, and her eyes began to blaze. "He thought he would punish me with a child, but look! I've managed to punish you! I hope he writhes in his grave tonight!"

"Bravo, Madeleine! Well done! So, you've finally got revenge on that old man after all," the lady known as "Olympe" said.

"You mean it was _real_?" I demanded, turning on the priest.

"Of course it was," he said, sounding offended. "Madame Delphine asked me here to wed you both, and that's what I've done."

"But we're not in sacred walls," I began.

"Yes, we are," Jeanette said, sounding immeasurably sad. "This is the chapel, Monsieur Erik."

I was shocked. Married? Against our wills, and all to satisfy Madame Delphine? Oh, it rankled. I wanted nothing more than to kill that woman, but the girls' presence denied me that pleasure.

The whole group of guests escorted us upstairs, shouting crude jokes about wedding nights, and once we reached my door, deposited Jeanette in my arms so I would be certain to carry her across the threshold of my room. I carried her inside, and it was only a moment later as I set Jeanette down that I realized Claudia was with us.

"I didn't want to stay with those awful people," she said sadly, gazing at us with such pity that I felt my heart break.

Jeanette sank onto the couch and began to cry, which set Claudia off a moment later. Sitting down on the couch beside her sister, I pulled Claudia into my lap and put an arm around Jeanette, trying to comfort them both.

"It's all right," I said to Jeanette, trying to still her sobs. "It's not binding if we weren't aware it was a real wedding, and if you like, we can get an annulment."

"That's not it," Jeanette sobbed, fishing a lacy white handkerchief out of her sleeve. "She tricked us into it, that's what's making me cry! She hates us! We're her daughters, and she hates us! Only good fortune made her choose you, Monsieur Erik!"

I didn't know what to say, but Claudia did.

"So, you're going to stay married?" she asked, sounding ecstatic.

My heart was pounding painfully loud.

"Well, I can't say we're exactly married, but if he's my husband, he can protect us from Mamma," Jeanette said.

"But, don't you love him?" Claudia persisted. "You talk about him all the time, and you say how wonderful he is, how strong and kind, and how intelligent, and you always say that you'd want nothing more in a man. . ."

"Be still, Claudia!" Jeanette ordered, blushing a fearful red. "He may not love me. . ."

"I would have to be dead, Mademoiselle Jeanette," I said, raising her fingers to my lips in a chaste kiss, "Not to love you. I loved you from the moment I saw you."

As I said it, I realized it was true. I did love her, and I loved her more with each passing moment. The radiant smile she gave me in answer to my announcement sent my mind speeding toward heaven.

I fell back down with a bump. The mask, my face. . .She might very well change her mind. I had to know.

"Before you say yes, Jeanette, I would have you know everything. I am a murderer, and a thief, and my face is that of a monster. I would have you know."

I removed the mask.

Jeanette and Claudia gazed at me without a measure of fear. Jeanette reached out and brushed her fingers lightly on my cheek, and pressed her lips to mine.

"Do you think that would matter to me, monsieur, especially when I have Madame Delphine for a mother? She is not without her past, too. I still love you in spite of it, for I know the man beneath the mask."

"Hooray!" Claudia cried as I knelt on the floor in front of her sister.

"Mademoiselle Jeanette, may I have the honor of asking for your hand, and you do me the honor of wedding me in a real ceremony?"

Jeanette burst into tears again and gasped out a single "Yes!" as she flung her arms around me. I kissed her, and she smiled and kissed me back. I kissed her again, and, amazingly, she did not die! She did not die! I had been so afraid that any woman who kissed me would die, but Christine hadn't, and now, Jeanette, wonderful, lovely Jeanette, survived my kiss as well!

What was more, she was kissing me as well! It was as if she couldn't get enough of kissing me, and it was only Claudia crying "Me too! Me too!" and covering me with little pecks that stopped the proceedings from becoming heated.

Realizing that we had a small girl with us, Jeanette and I calmed ourselves and we began to make plans. We would leave Madame Delphine's house and travel wherever we wished. I had sufficient capital to travel the world over a thousand times, and we could settle anyplace Jeanette and I took a fancy to. Once we were settled or found a wedding location we liked, we would have our own ceremony. We would live away from Madame Delphine and her insidious influence, and life would be grand.

At least, that was what we hoped. In the meantime, we would fetch what the girls wanted to take with them, and we would go that very night. In the morning, we would see my solicitor and begin our journey.

The girls didn't want much at all. Each took a change of clothes and their journals, and Claudia took her doll, and I packed a spare suit in the one bag we had between all of us. We crept out through the tunnels, down to the stables, and I readied a carriage. The girls would ride inside, and I would drive. Fortunately, it began to rain, and I was able to wear a cloak to disguise myself.

But where to go once we arrived in Paris? Jeanette pointed the way to the city, but I had no idea which hotel would put up a masked man who was the object of a frantic police search. Hmm. There seemed to be nothing else for it.

We arrived in the Place de L'Opera an hour or so before dawn. Leaving the carriage a few streets away from the Opera, I led the girls inside, down into the tunnels, and through the tunnels to what had been my lair. The damage from the fire had not been very extensive to the edifice above us, and there was almost none to my former home. Adjuring the girls to rest, they settled themselves in the swan bed while I went to change my clothes and wash. A few hours later, I heard the church bells chime eight o'clock, so I went to wake them so they could journey with me to my solicitor's. We would be in a carriage out of Paris to Le Havre by ten.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I woke up with a pounding headache. What on earth had happened? I was in my bed at Madame Delphine's, still in my costume for the masquerade, and I had a headache that was threatening to break my skull to pieces.

I lay still trying to remember. Slowly, the previous night came back to me. I had been at the masquerade, and apparently, I had had too much wine. Wait a moment, hadn't there been a wedding? Or had I dreamed that? I would have to find out. Looking at my left hand, I saw there was no ring. Did that mean that it hadn't happened?

A knock at the door sent my head pounding into three-quarter time, and I groaned, calling at the same time for whoever it was to come in.

Jacques. Oh, fabulous. "Good morning, monsieur. How are you feeling?"

I glared at him. "I feel positively horrendous, Jacques, and I think I spent the entire night having the strangest dreams. Can you tell me what happened, because I don't know for the life of me."

"There was a masquerade last night, monsieur," he began.

"I know that," I snapped. "What happened at the blasted masquerade?"

"There was a game that you married the little mademoiselle, but after they announced it a game, the demoiselles left, and you had a good deal of wine, muttering something about 'murdering the hyenas in their beds.' Madame Delphine slipped a little something in your last glass of wine so you wouldn't murder anyone."

I reflected on this. It had been prudent of her to make sure I wouldn't murder anyone. With Jacques' words, I remembered what had happened. Jeanette had been teased a great deal by the other guests once the mock-marriage had been completed, and I had been ready to kill once I had seen how unhappy they had made her. I was still ready to kill, but I doubted that Jeanette would like to hear that I was a murderer. The "real" marriage, our declarations of love, and our plans for escape had been only my nighttime fantasies.

Damn.

Well, that wasn't going to stop me. First thing (once I got my traitorous head to stop pounding) would be to see Jeanette and Claudia. I had a feeling that they would like to hear what I had to say.

Space

I found them both in the schoolroom, despondently reading a book. Neither of them looked as if they had slept very much.

"Are you all right?" I asked, taking an empty chair.

Jeanette looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Yes, just a little too much party last night, that's all, and a little too much of Mamma's guests."

Claudia groaned. "I am never going to one of those wretched parties again, never! The butler told me that champagne was good, and now I have a headache."

I fought down a chuckle at her abject misery, but she looked so funny draped over the back of her chair! That could hardly be a comfortable way to sit, yet she seemed not to mind it.

"Well, I came to see you both, because I have an idea."

This caught their attention. I continued before they could look away from me.

"Do you want to remain with Madame Delphine? Or would you prefer to live somewhere else?"

Jeanette dropped her book while Claudia left her chair and came to my side. "What do you mean?" Jeanette breathed, as if hardly daring to hope.

"I mean that I will take all three of us away from here, and I'll find you a place to live wherever you want. If you like, we could stay together, or I'll make other arrangements for you. I have a feeling you aren't happy with Madame Delphine."

Quickly I learned why so many bachelors remain so. Jeanette launched herself at me and locked her arms around my neck, weeping into my shoulder. Claudia was unable to reach my neck to do the same, so she satisfied herself with my elbow and wept into it. I was terrified, and I did not dare move for fear of upsetting them further. I'd had no idea that women could cry so much, and I still had no idea if they were glad or not.

Jeanette's next words settled my worries. "When---could we---l-leave?" she gasped out.

"As soon as you like," I answered. "You won't be able to take much with you, but I can make sure you have plenty of what you need or want."

Claudia shook her head. "That's not important. We'll be going, Jeanette! We'll be going at last!" Unable to stay still, she danced about us, clapping her hands in joy.

I chuckled, unable to help myself. She looked like a tiny fairy, skipping about like that. Jeanette's tears at last ended, and I offered her my handkerchief. She took it, smiling her thanks and mopped at her face. "What time will we be going?" Jeanette asked.

I couldn't resist being melodramatic. "Will midnight suit? Will that give you enough time to prepare?"

She nodded, still mopping at tears that would not stop. "I hope you don't misunderstand these tears, Monsieur Erik," she said, catching yet another. "They're tears of relief and happiness, and nothing more."

"It's all right," I assured her. "I understand completely, and I understand your feelings. After tonight, you'll have someone to help you through any worry you have."

She laughed, still streaming tears. "I think we had you from the moment you discovered us," she said, laying a gentle hand along one side of my masked face. That tiny gesture sent my mind to float somewhere up above the clouds as my heart began to thud in my chest. I stared into her eyes as she gazed into mine, and I was certain that in her eyes I saw a vision of heaven.

Claudia, of course, broke the spell by wrapping her arms around both of us and giving us hugs that would have broken our ribs had she been any stronger. Gasping, Jeanette took her hand away and laughed at her sister when she said, "Jeanette, may I take my doll?"

Jeanette and I assured her that she could.

Space

While the two young ladies made their preparations, I made mine. We would need transportation, and we would need somewhere to stay once we got to Paris. From Paris, we would go to wherever the girls wished to go. Using the secret tunnels, I made my way down to the stables and selected a carriage and two horses to pull it. We would take a circuitous route in order to throw off anyone searching for us, by first heading away from Paris, heading north, doubling back, and then heading into the city from the northern entrance.

Once we arrived there, where could we stay? I doubted that people were still patrolling the cellars looking for me, but would it be safe to go there? More so, would Madame Delphine think of searching for us there?

An inn or hotel? Could we go to someplace like that without trouble? Hmm.

The day passed swiftly, and only an onerous supper that Madame Delphine insisted I attend marred the day. I left it when they pulled out cards and bottles of wine, saying I had no feeling for game or drink, and they let me go without a murmur.

Thank goodness. It was already half-past eleven.

I made my way to my room, grabbed a cloak and hat, and made my way into the tunnels. The intersection of my tunnel and the tunnel that led to the stables was our rendezvous, and I waited breathlessly for the girls. What if they had been delayed? What if someone had gotten wind of our plan and decided to stop our meeting?

Before I could become too worried, I spotted their candle coming towards me and I heard Claudia's whisper of "Monsieur Erik?"

"Here I am," I whispered back. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Jeanette answered, and they both came close enough for me to see. Between the two of them there was one old carpetbag and their cloaks.

I had timed our departure to coincide with the tolling of the great clock in the hall. I planned to pull away from the house as it was chiming, and hopefully we would not be heard. If we were fortunate enough for them all to be too drunk to hear us, then all the better.

We reached the stables, and it was the work of only a few minutes to hitch my chosen horses to the carriage and to get it out into the stable yard. I could hear the gaming going on inside the house, and there was a great deal of raucous shouting as I stowed the girls inside our conveyance. At the first chime I swung myself up onto the box and tapped the horses lightly with the whip. Nothing loath, they pulled us away from the house, and within a minute we were out of the gates.

Our ride to Paris was almost like our escape in my dream. We rode through the night, and after miles of countryside, the first environs of the city loomed above us out of the darkness. We clattered through the cobbled streets, passed couples or groups of people, and as we passed the Opera, we met with a very welcome surprise. I almost didn't see the figure in a dark dress, but she saw me.

"Erik!" Madame Giry cried. "Erik!"

I was so surprised that I actually stopped the carriage, and in the next moment, I had swung myself to the street and was embracing her.

"Madame Giry! How did you know it was me?"

"I'd recognize you anywhere," she answered. "What are you doing in Paris? The police might see you!"

How could I explain that I had fallen in love again and that I and two young girls were planning on leaving the next day? Somehow, I managed to convey all of this to her, and I was so surprised when I received a sisterly kiss on the cheek.

"I am so glad!" she said, holding both of my hands as Jeanette and Claudia left the carriage to see what had happened. "Are these the mademoiselles?"

I nodded, introducing them. After the usual "pleased to meet yous," I asked her if the Opera was safe for us.

She shook her head. "Not the cellars, but one of the empty dormitories might be. It's the off season now, and all of the performers are either visiting friends or family or they're out all the time. A lot of the dormitories are empty, and it is only Meg and I tonight."

After stashing the carriage and horses in the Opera stable yard, Madame Giry took us inside and led us through the corridors to the dormitories. I fought down an urge to turn towards Christine's room, reminding myself sternly that she was no longer in my life. I had thought that I still loved her, but that night, I realized that I had wanted to go to her room out of force of habit. This realization was so surprising that I smiled in relief.

After showing us into the north dormitory, Madame Giry fetched us sheets, blankets, pillows, and then she brought us a pot of tea and something to eat while I lit the gas lamps and turned them up. Without a word, Jeanette and Claudia made up three beds for us as Madame Giry set a table for tea.

"Why are you leaving that woman now, Erik?" she asked as we sat down.

I considered how to answer this, not wishing to embarrass the girls. I was saved from answering by Jeanette.

"My sister and I felt that it was time to leave, Madame," she said. "And we asked Monsieur Erik to travel with us."

"And where will you be going?"

I smiled. "I don't know if we've decided yet."

"Jeanette and I talked about it," Claudia said, stirring sugar into her tea. "We've thought about Paris (but we're already here), Avignon, London, Florence, Rome, Brussels, Berlin, Prague, Moscow, and just about a million other places; but we still haven't decided."

I blinked. Well, they certainly had an idea of where they wanted to go. The only question was where we would start!

"Well, there are other places," Madame Giry said, smiling playfully. "There's Africa. Or South America, or you could go to India or China or somewhere else."

At mention of those places, Claudia's eyes gleamed.

We kept chatting of possible destinations, and once it became apparent that Claudia was all but asleep, Madame Giry insisted we all go to bed. She fussed at all three of us, drew curtains around the girls' beds and mine to keep off drafts, and she told us that she would wake us in the morning. She left us after whispering to me, "You'd better write to me, you wretch, you! I've been worried sick!"

Marveling at how she could still forgive me murder, I went to sleep, listening to the girls whisper.


End file.
